Baking ruins, sweet cold water
Sunday morning and up early and off to the local Greek Orthodox church. A devout earthiness. People, from the elderly to little babies, kissing the icons fervently. The church potent with incense and rather warm. Glen had been there several times and says that he can take it for half an hour or so. Eleni's father there again with grandchildren, who he lifted up to kiss the icons on the way in. I liked looking at the amazing pictures upon the walls, as well as hearing the singing of the ministers in the orthodox ceremony. Rather arrested by the paintings of six winged seraphim. Then home to a large breakfast of scrambled eggs made with green peppers and tomatoes from Eleni's father's garden. I stood on the balcony taking in their magnificent view and noticed Giannis outside waiting for us down on the street. Glen drove us all to Phillipi , not far from Kavala but out onto the vast flat alluvial plain. Lorraine and I, like mad dogs and English, then walked around the larg...